The Man at The Coffee Shop (This Time)
I could tell lots of stories of men coming up to talk to me while I’m writing (aka minding my own business) at a coffee shop.
But I’ll just tell you about the man at the coffee shop this time.
I’m home from a morning writing date I took myself on. I should shift to other things I need to do, like cleaning out my closet and having lunch with my husband and making plans for the week. Instead, I feel a need to write about this brief, albeit annoying, experience to process what happened with the man at the coffee shop (this time) and let it go.
There I was, in my hoodie, sitting by myself, focused on my laptop and notebook in front of me, when a man walked up to the table next to me and put his coat on the chair. He turned to me and leaned down, so I looked up.
“It’s Sunday. You shouldn’t be working,” he said.
I pride myself on being a quick-witted conversationalist, but I didn’t have a response for him. Not only was it Sunday, but I’m a teacher and it was a Sunday in the middle of my beloved two-week winter break.
He was right. I shouldn’t be working on a Sunday. Nor should I be working during my winter break, my time off, my vacation.
Caught off guard, and at a loss for how to explain this succintly, I just smiled and went back to my “work”.
But I wasn’t working. I was writing.
I was, in fact, in the middle of an overhaul of one of the chapters of my book. Did it feel like work? Yeah, to be honest, it has been feeling like work because it requires attention and energy when my brain and body very much deserve a winter-break rest. As I pulled out my sticky notes and started to write out the chapter sections so I could play with how to rearrange them, I realized that my art, my fun, my passion looks very much like work. I guess I could see how he might assume I was working. But truthfully, writing is how I choose to spend my time. I love writing and I love teaching writing. I love it so much that I’m not only writing on a Sunday but a Sunday during winter break.
After working more on my chapter revision and getting to a good pausing point, I pulled out a notebook I’ve been using to capture my thoughts on the experience of writing a book. I wrote about waking up and deciding to get my butt out of bed and to a coffee shop first thing because I know this is a strategy that works for me when I really need to focus in on my writing. All month, I’ve been thinking about this chapter and trying to revise it. Only this weekend did it feel like I was starting to make sense of how it fits together. I wrote about this, acknowledging and celebrating my effort to make time and my progress.
I’m really proud of my dedication. In my early 30’s, when I started blogging and sharing ideas on Twitter, I was having fun. When I first had a desire to write a book for teachers, I think I wanted to prove that I mattered, that I had something important to say. Now that I’m 44, I’m back to having fun. I know my experiences and my expertise are worth sharing. I get to wake up on a Sunday morning during winter break and write. I get to work with an editor to help me share my message. I get to share what I’ve learned about teaching writing. I get to publish a book about teaching writing!
The best part is that I know that all of this will allow me to connect with other writers and other writing teachers and ultimately, make a positive impact on student writers. I get to help people see how living the life of a writer can be joyful and fun.
After packing up my things, I walked up to the man who had interrupted me.
“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, even though I wasn’t sorry at all.
He was scrolling on his phone and stopped to look up at me.
“I just wanted to share that you assumed that I was working, but I’m actually writing a book,” I explained.
The rest of the conversation was an awkward exchange where him and his friend asked questions but didn’t really listen to my answers and instead cut me off to offer their thoughts on teaching and how hard it is to teach high school students. The man was himself a retired high school teacher.
I don’t know what I expected from engaging with the man again. To be honest, I’m not sure I accomplished anything other than to set the record straight that I was writing, but that feels worth it.
The man in the coffee shop (this time) might not realize the impact he had on me. His comment (probably unintentionally) challenged my identity as a writer. The thing is, my identity as a writer is strong. I’m proud to be writer, and I’m proud I am to be a writing teacher who centers writers and helps them embrace living the life of a writer. I’m proud to be someone who wants to empower writers of all ages to celebrate the process as much as the product. Sometimes the process can look like work. Sometimes the process can feel like work.
But it’s work we get to do as writers. It’s writing.
Living the life of a writer means recognizing the good, the bad, and the ugly. I would categorize this experience as the ugly. I’m not naive; I know it can be way worse. Writing requires us to be vulnerable, which means we might have to face being misunderstood or we might have to face others’ thoughts, feelings, perceptions, or judgements. This doesn’t mean we should shy away from writing, but we should be aware that we will have to navigate this.
Dear writer, my advice for how to navigate this is to work on being able to see and love yourself clearly. Your opinion of yourself is truly the only one that matters. Living in alignment with your values and beliefs is paramount.
I invite you to reflect on what you value and what you believe about yourself and your life as a writer. How does it make you feel to remind yourself of your why? I’d love to hear what truths you hold close to your writerly heart and what it feels like to spend time with them and to live by them.
As this year comes to a close, I’m especially grateful that you’re here and that you’re also exploring what it means to live the life of a writer in and out of the classroom. I love empowering writers, teachers, and students to explore their stories. If you know someone who is reflective, values community, connection, and growth, and likes to write, I’d love if you would share this post with them.
And then you wrote about it. Nice.
If I ever see you writing in a coffee shop, which could happen, whatever I would be excited to say can just wait until a good or better moment. I love how you just keep going, Jen.
ngl, I’m sick of men’s opinions lately when it comes to women’s writing and writing habits. I hope this is just a phase (undoubtedly influenced by all of the “what Santo-Thomas is trying to say…” bros) but if it’s permanent, so be it.